Tag Archives: pregnancy

hospitals, bed rest and gunk

5 Jan

Wow. I was actually surprised when I saw I hadn’t blogged in a LONG while. That’s what happens when you actually have to go into a job-waking up at 445 am and coming home around 12 hours later. Sheesh.

 

But times have a changed—and I’m not working! Or doing my masters case presentation! Or walking! That’s right folks, I’m officially on bed rest because my Placenta (yes, has to be capitalized) tore on December 15th at 1130 am.  It was crazy scary and although I was in the hospital for just over two weeks (and I thought: PERFECT! I’ll be able to get all my work done in a jiffy!) there was no way my brain was up to handling any kind of work. We were told that we’d probably have to deliver our baby (don’t know the sex yet!) that day, which was 2 months early. I was 32 weeks pregnant and now, me, Baby and my husband (because I couldn’t have stayed sane without him) have defied all odds and have beat Placenta back into submission. Okay. Not really, as I’m still on bed rest, but the docs are quite surprised I’ve lasted this long without another abruption (tear in my Placenta). [Cue clapping here].

 

Can I tell you though, that mini update wasn’t the reason why I wanted to blog…the prompt to crack open the blog was this:

The splits. Now, how I could’ve possibly missed the memo that BEFORE you officially go into labor, your body starts ‘prepping’ itself, is beyond me.  This ‘prepping’ is akin to feeling like you’re stretching out those legs of yours in a split position and your coach comes over and pushes you further into the ground-lighting your pelvic bones on fire (and since bones don’t melt, they’re just very uncomfortable).  My groin is in some serious discomfort and I can’t help reminiscing on my gymnastics days and wondering why the heck I would’ve subjected myself to this type of discomfort willingly. Ugh.

 

Next. Don’t let people fool you ladies into thinking you’ll have 9 months of pad free bliss just because you’re pregnant. It’s a lie.

Mucous plug.

That’s all I’ve gotta say on the matter and it’s gross as heck. Oh what we do for babies.

worrying. it’s started prematurely

2 Oct

That’s right. I’m worrying. I worry that my husband won’t get out of bed to go to work and get there on time-I worry that food won’t be good enough-I worry that the house won’t be clean enough…and that’s just a start.  I mean, that’s not to say I didn’t worry before I got pregnant, just that, well, the intensity of the worry has amplified at least 20 fold.  On top of everything is the underlying worry about how much more I’ll worry when baby’s out of the womb.

ARGHHHHH.

Which brings me to the point of today’s blog:

Today is Saturday.  Ask me if I work on Saturdays?

You: Do you work on Saturdays?

Me: Heck no!

[and if you were here, you’d look around, furrow your brow and this would come out:]

You: Why’d you get up at 6?

Me: IIIIIIIIIIIII DDDDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNN’TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT KKKKNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[me ripping my hair from my head like a crazy woman]

Well, for one, my husband had to be up to drive his butt out to Home Depot to pick up insulation which he’s installing with his sister’s boyfriend…so I had to make sure he actually got out of bed for that one…and there’s laundry to do….and my stomach’s growling (all baby wants me to do is eat) and yeah…thus. I’m up.

Make the worry stop until it has to be there!!! Please!

On a brighter note: our baby room’s been painted and we got a crib and a baby changing station…Woopwoop!!!! We’re putting it all together after the insulation goes in. My mum was horrified at the colour we chose: ebony.  In other words: black.  She basically told me baby would be scarred by seeing all those black bars everywhere…um, thanks for the support and let’s add to neurotic-worry-before-you-have-to words of wisdom mum.

I think baby’s made of tougher stuff.

Baby's bed!!!!

oh, how the turn tables….preggers post #2

26 Jul

I was forewarned that it would happen…one day I would wake up and the queasiness and the misery are gone for good. Well, here’s a cheers to day 2 sans quease…there was one day in between with quease but it wasn’t bad enough to warrant misery, and so it doesn’t count 😀 oh happy day! ps. I’m the  one cheers-ing with ice water…..look at me go.